Hell Outta Dodge
by Augusta Donnachaidh
Summary: Guin Malory's path has been chosen.  Deserted by the man she loves and running from a danger she doesn't understand, she finds solace in a small town.  No one knows her there...so she thinks.


"Please, please, _please_!"

Guin ran from the front of her car to the driver's seat. As she sat in the seat, she hurriedly tried to crank the car. _No chance of it starting_, she thought. She popped back out of the car and ran back around to the front. She rested one hand on the frame of her beat-up 1979 Camaro while fiddling with pertinent parts of the engine. She rolled her short sleeves over her shoulder once more as a drop of sweat hit the engine casing. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, leaving a black streak across her forehead. Her jeans clung to her, glued by sweat.

"I'll do _anything_ if you just _start._ I'll even fix you up like you've always wanted," she told the Camaro. Yes, she knew talking to her car probably made her crazy. At this point, though, crazy was just fine by her.

She darted back to the driver's seat and tried to crank the car once more. After a few tries, it finally roared to life, the rumble as unsteady as Guin herself felt. She put the Camaro in first gear and peeled out of the abandoned gravel lot, slinging rocks behind her as she spun out towards the road.

"Thank you, thank you,_ thank you_," she kept repeating.

Both windows were down, blowing her long, dark hair all around her. She had no idea where in particular she was going; she just knew it was away from where she had been. That's all she really cared about. As she approached the entrance to Interstate 40, she stared at the two signs.

"East or west?" she asked herself.

At the last possible second, she chose west. She had no idea why, but she felt the need to travel west. She traveled west with a sure intent. The more she tried to stay within the speed limit, the more she sped. _Breathe_, she told herself, _breathe_. _Easier said than done_, she realized.

As Guin traveled, she thought of only two things (well, other than driving). These two things were men, actually. One was named Kielov and the other Lorcan. They were two very different men, and she loved them both. But loving them meant that she could love neither of them. Exclusively. For this reason, she had no choice but to release both of them from any sense of obligation they felt towards her. She forbid herself to ponder them further. Well, she _tried_ to. Could she ever really stop those feelings? _As likely as stopping a train in its tracks._ She doubted she could. Which frightened her further. She desperately wanted to go back and erase so many things. Or at least change them. She wanted to make everything okay again. She figured if she could go back in time, nothing would change. She truly had done things as she wanted, but the end result she hated. She was in an endless circle of repeating the same wrongs over and over – for centuries, it seemed. _Centuries_.

And now – why was she running? Kielov. He couldn't let her go. It seemed he couldn't understand the situation. He lacked the ability to comprehend what he was doing to her, how he scared her, how guilty he made her feel, and how much she still loved him, regardless of it all. She knew she had to completely wash him from her mind. She would no longer hold on to any radical notions that being with him was okay or that there would ever be a chance of being friends with him. She had mourned her loss of him for far too long. While she had forced herself to think of him as dead, she found it increasingly difficult to imagine living in a world where he didn't. At least if he were alive, there was some sort of possibility that he could find happiness.

Lorcan, though, had given up on her. He had decided to leave. She hadn't seen him in months – making her feel even more worthless. He didn't even think she was worth fighting for, even when she had chosen Lorcan over any other man. He still had too much doubt that Kielov could ever leave them alone. Or that she could ever forget about Kielov.

She traveled for days. She stopped to sleep, eat, and use the facilities, but other than that, she found that she felt the safest when she was in motion. In motion meant that she was furthering the distance. _Or perhaps closing the distance_. She didn't know. She just knew that a few days prior Kielov had caught up to her. She scarcely got away before he could hurt her. She desperately wanted to find Lorcan. She felt as though her need to travel west was to do with Lorcan. Perhaps he was west of her. This world was so big, yet still so small sometimes. She hadn't expected Kielov to find her. She had been settled in that new town for weeks. She had finally felt as though she were safe. As she rounded the corner from the parking lot to her apartment, she heard a man say her name. When she saw and recognized him, she momentarily froze before she rushed away. Running. She ran straight to the gas station around the corner. Things had always been sort of rough in her neighborhood so there was generally a cop on duty there. She ran straight inside the gas station, practically throwing herself into the officer's arms. Kielov had been only a few steps behind her. Seeing her, there with her arms around the officer as though she were a scared child and he the parent, royally pissed Kielov off. The anger in his eyes made her look away. He paced back and forth, glaring at her through the glass storefront.

"Are you okay, Miss?" the officer asked.

She couldn't catch her breath to respond to him. Her fear pinched her throat shut.

"I am now," she managed to whisper, still not under control.

"Wait here," he instructed_. As though she had other plans_. "There" was the safest place she could think of.

The officer went outside immediately and spoke with Kielov. The entire time they spoke, Kielov continued looking to Guin. Even though she could not hear them from her safe haven inside the gas station, she knew Kielov wasn't listening to the officer. He was just plotting his next move. He had stopped pacing, and he stood there with his hands on his hips, as though he were going to take off running again any second - even as Kielov gave his license to the officer for inspection. The officer wrote some notes down on his pad, dismissing Kielov. The officer returned to Guin after watching Kielov leave the property.

"I gave him a warning," the officer told her. "I'm going to write a report up with his information. If you have future issues, this will be on record."

Somehow this did little to ease her fears.

It took Guin quite some time to gain courage to leave the safety of the gas station. She never thought that she would think of such a place as a comforting one. The thought returned to her head that she would be alone all night as well. There would be no one to protect her, and she was only relatively good at protecting herself. But she was no match for Kielov's brute strength. _Kielov knew where she lived._ That thought kept echoing through her mind. _He knew where she lived._

"I've called another officer to take this post so that I can escort you back to your home," the officer told her, breaking her raging thoughts. "Where did you run here from, anyway?" he asked.

"My house is around the block," she answered.

"You were fast, then," he stated.

"I'm a runner," she told him. "I run several miles every day. I knew I could outrun him," she told the officer.

Through her mind flashed memories of jogging with Kielov. He enjoying jogging with her, but never could keep up, especially when she would do sprints. They had so much fun _then_. Her running rhythm was labored due to the laughter rumbling through her. She had even warned him that if he couldn't keep up, she would ban him from being her running partner.

And now he _was_ banned.

And she was _glad_ he had never improved.

_If he had caught up to her_ … a shudder ran through her. She was thankful the officer didn't question her about the nature of what had happened. She had given him enough details to where he knew that he was no stranger and most definitely not a person she wanted in her life.

Another officer pulled into the gas station parking lot, in an unmarked car. Unmarked cars were always so easy to spot. What was the point? The officer that stepped out was a huge man –in height and build. He wore street clothes, but his badge hung proudly on his belt, as well as his gun.

"Thank you," the uniform said to the other. "I should be back within the hour."

"Take your time; I was on street patrol … boring as hell." The officer had a hint of a southern twang. Guin suspected Georgia. With that, they left. The officer opened the passenger door, letting Guin situate herself before he shut the door. Guin immediately recognized the strong aroma of the officer's cologne – that she had smelled when she threw herself into his arms as she ran into the gas station. It had quickly become a comforting smell to her.

"Turn left, and then right. I'm the third house on the right," she instructed.

"Do you suspect that he could be armed?" the officer asked.

"I wouldn't put it past him. Most likely it would be a knife, though."

She remembered clearing the night Kielov had held a knife to her throat.

It was the night when she had tried to tell him that their friendship could no longer be as it was. She had developed a relationship out of her friendship with Lorcan. Kielov had exploded at this news. He tried to take her with him by knifepoint. Had it not been for Lorcan, he would have succeeded.

Lorcan, she suspected, had shown up at her house to visit and, upon seeing Kielov's car, had instantly known why he was there. Lorcan had made her promise to wait until he could be close by to have the conversation with Kielov. She didn't wait, though. Lorcan had snuck in the back door, approaching Kielov in surprise. In one swift maneuver he knocked the knife from Kielov's hand, bent him backwards by this arm, and dragged him out to the back yard. He let go of Kielov's arm once they reach the yard, but before he had time to recover, Lorcan reared back and punched Kielov in his face. Kielov fell to the ground. Lorcan straddled him, punching him over and over until Kielov drew back a bloody face. There was so much blood that Guin couldn't tell where it came from as she watched them from the safety of the kitchen.

Kielov jumped up, throwing Lorcan off of him. He landed about six feet away from him. Kielov kicked Lorcan repeatedly. Guin wanted to yell at them to stop, but she couldn't risk Kielov coming back to finish what he had started with her. She looked away for a moment, unable to see Lorcan being kicked. She was sure he would have broken ribs. Kielov stood back a moment, seemingly proud of himself. He lean down, putting his boot over Lorcan's throat. Lorcan struggled for a moment before grabbing Kielov's boot, twisting it, and hurling Kielov over top of him. He landed a few feet away, clutching his leg as though Lorcan had broken it. Lorcan wasted no time. He returned the series of kicks back to Kielov. With each kick, Kielov twitched with pain. Lorcan stood back a moment, observing his work. He visually checked to see if Kielov was still conscious. Kielov remained motionless. Guin suspected he had passed out. As he began to sit up, Lorcan lunged at him, one leg on either side, his hands at Kielov's neck. He pushed and pushed. Guin saw the rage in Lorcan's eyes, the force he excerpted on Kielov, and Kielov's feet kicking, as though he were taking his last breaths.

Lorcan was strangling Kielov to death.

And she had caused this.

No matter what horrible things Kielov had done, Guin couldn't let Lorcan kill him. She stepped outside the door, on to the back porch.

"_NO!_" she screamed. Her horror echoed through the yard.

Lorcan turned to Guin, still not releasing his hands from Kielov's neck.

"You _can't_, Lorcan_. Not like this_."

"Then how?" he yelled. "He won't leave you alone until he succeeds in killing you!" he yelled back to her. "This is the only way!"

She shook her head, though; she knew he spoke the truth. "Not like this, Lorcan. _Not like this_," was all she could say.

Lorcan stood to his feet, out of breath. He stared down at Kielov. He felt betrayed by Guin, and his eyes didn't hide that fact. His hands were at his sides, prepared for a return attack from Kielov. She didn't doubt that, had the positions been reversed, Kielov would have killed Lorcan. Their eyes turned to Kielov. He wasn't moving. She feared the worst. Lorcan looked satisfied with his work. Then, as if struck with life, Kielov squirmed, coughing hideously.

"Go back inside, Guin. Lock the door. And don't come back out," Lorcan ordered.

She did what he said with no argument. She returned to the door's window, watching them closely. Kielov continued moving around, still on the ground. Lorcan bent down and picked Kielov up by his throat. They had seemed like an equal match, both in size and skill, but Lorcan had just a slight advantage. He seemed just a hint stronger than Kielov. Just enough to make a difference. It looked like it was painful for Kielov to stand on his feet. His face was bloodied beyond recognition. She could hardly stand to look at him.

Lorcan yelled something at him, pointing out of the yard. Kielov, defeated, stumbled off, limping, as he tried to find his way. Guin closed her eyes, relieved that Lorcan had not killed him. Lorcan watched until Kielov disappeared from sight.

He approached the door where Guin stood as she unlocked it. She immediately apologized for ignoring his warning to wait for him before she spoke to Kielov.

"It is done, Guinevere_. You have chosen our path_," he said, using her formal name, as he often did. He proceeded in his path to the bathroom to shower. He was covered with Kielov's blood along with a layer of sweat.

"Our path?" she questioned Lorcan.

"He will be back."


End file.
